Safe
by rubyiceflower5
Summary: Harry relapses with his eating disorder. Might turn into an actual story later. Soft Drarry. Content warning: descriptive bulimia, disordered/suicidal thoughts.


The grease of oil and mayo made his stomach churn. _You shouldn't have eaten that._ It coated his mouth, as though the skin inside oozed it – bled it – letting it seep down his throat. Hundreds and thousands of calories just pouring into him without him having to move a muscle. _I need to get rid of it, I need to fix it_. He got up quickly, bouncing from foot to foot as he made his way to the bathroom, taking at least two minutes longer than necessary to get there. He braced himself at the sink, leaving the door wide open. He couldn't trust himself if he closed it. If he closed it, he'd feel too secure, too alone, and would break immediately.

_Pig, you shouldn't have eaten that, you shouldn't have eaten that, it was too much, you shouldn't have eaten that you shouldn't have eaten that youshouldn'thave stupidfilthypigpigpig..._

Shaking a little, mind racing, he quickly – frantically – started brushing his teeth. He brushed until the toothpaste burned his tongue, then his whole mouth, til his gums were bleeding. _This is better than purging,_ he tried to assure himself, but the voice butted in again. _It wouldn't matter what you did, he ultimately wouldn't care, he's just a temporary thing in your life, just temporary, he's likely only here because he feels bad for you – like you're some kind of charity case – and he'll leave you at the first chance he gets. Just purge now, it doesn't matter if he hears, it's probably better that way, you'll save him the trouble of having to stay with your filthy, fat ass longer than necessary..._

All this crossed his mind in a matter of seconds. Suddenly, without control, he was throwing his toothbrush in the sink, bending over the toilet, shoving his fingers down his throat, gagging hard as hell, nearly choking on clumps of bread and grease and cheese. And it all hurt but he was fine, he was fine, fine, fine, this would fix it, fix everything, it didn't matter if Draco could hear him clear as day through the thin wall that separated them.

He barely heard the door to the study open, too focused on the high of purging for the first time in months. Just as suddenly as it started, it all stopped. Warm arms gripped him around the waist just as he pulled his fingers out again, a rush of stomach bile rushing onto him and the floor with a hard cough. The sudden movement caused him to scratch a rough line into his tongue with his nails and his mouth burned. He heard a voice, but he couldn't make it out, couldn't focus on anything besides the pain in his head and chest and face, and those gentle, sturdy arms holding them against the opposite wall. And, Merlin, the smell. All of it smelled and felt awful, then, just as suddenly, it was gone. Pitch black.

\--

He came to his senses what felt like years later, soft bedding beneath him. He wanted to relish in it – his body ached, burned, everywhere. But something was wrong. He was alone in the room. There were no sleepy, silver eyes staring from the space next to him. _You did it, he realized you're too much and left, he __didn't want to deal with you. And honestly, it's better for both of you – he doesn't need to struggle, and you can kill yourself in peace... _He sat up with a jolt, sweaty and anxious and pained and the movement made his head swim.

For a moment, he couldn't see, couldn't focus, but he ignored it, crawling to the edge of the bed. He overestimated the distance and fell off, with a hard _thud_ on the floor. This seemed to break him out of the haze, but he didn't get up. The fall made his body feel like it shattered into a thousand pieces, his skin tingling painfully, and all he could do was curl up in a ball and cry. His sobs wracked his whole body, making the pain worse, but he couldn't stop. Everything was out of control. He was spiraling. He let out a scream, and his sobs became louder, more uncontrollable. He was alone. _Alone, alone, all his fault, terribly alone..._

"Harry?" There were heavy, fast footsteps outside his room, getting closer. _Please be Death, I wanna die, I wanna die, die, die..._

The door of the bedroom slammed open, the sound sending a splintering headache that seemed to travel through all the way down to his toes. "Harry!"

Those arms were around him again, so gentle, so warm, but it made him hurt more. He was being cradled, his head held against an equally warm chest, but he shouldn't be. _You should be dead, alone, he left you, because you're awful and disgusting, remember? This is all some stupid, stupid dream. Don't trust it._ He cried harder, if it was possible.

"No, no, no, you're okay. It's just me, kitten, you're safe. It's gonna be okay." The murmured reassurances continued as one hand moved from his back to his hair, stroking it slowly.

"Hurt," he managed to croak out, his throat burning more at this than it had at the scream.

His body was moved, he was floating, but a pressure remained burned into his back and legs. Then the soft bedding returned, a thin sheet covering him. His weak body wasn't registering it's comfort – it felt suffocating and painful. "No..."

The sheet was immediately removed, pulled back down to his knees. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on the other man's murmurs. "You're gonna be okay, I promise. I'm gonna try to heal you, alright? I don't know how much it'll help, but I'll try. It's gonna be okay." Some unrecognized words followed, then the pain vanished, leaving his body simply dull and tired. He couldn't remember how to move, so he just lay there, listening.

"Is that better? You seem a bit calmer..." A hand ran through his hair, and he didn't flinch. "Good, good, can you open your eyes, kitten? Please?"

He obeyed, meeting a shimmering silver gaze. He'd never seen Draco so sad. _He decided to stay, but look what pain you've caused him. It won't be hard to convince him to leave now. Just do it, and you can die in peace, finally._

"I'm gonna get you something to eat, okay? Just some soup, it's safe. You're gonna be okay. I'll be right back, kitten." He waited for a moment, for some response, but Harry just stared, afraid and unable to move.

_You can't have that. He probably loaded it with calories, oils and fatty, salty broth. He wants you to get even fatter. Maybe that's why he's still here – so he fatten you and eat you, like in those children's stories. _He closed his eyes again, struggling to ignore the voice.

It felt like hours before Draco returned. "Here, kitten. It's just... Harry?" His eyes fluttered open for a moment, catching a glimpse of the man holding a small bowl, worry etched on his face. There was a sigh, and he felt the bed shift next to him. "Can you try to sit up? It'll make it easier to eat... There you go, sh sh sh, you're okay." A hand held his arm, supporting him as he sat up. "Look, I've got this, it's just some of the soup you made the other day, I didn't add anything to it, I promise."

He listened to the bowl being lifted off the nightstand again, and finally looked over. It smelled the same as usual, and Draco didn't truly have a reason to lie...right? Those eyes met his gaze, and a smile broke out across the other man's face.

"There you go, kitten. Can you open?" He didn't feel it, but he guessed his lips parted on their own, because suddenly the spoon was in his mouth, slightly-too-warm soup slipping down his throat. He vaguely noticed Draco had removed the veggie chunks from it. His body was starving for more, greedy in a way that even prevented the voice from making a remark. Surely, it'd come back this was over. But that was later, and he'd deal with it then. He needed this.

A hand ran through his hair again, slowly, repetitively, and the soft reassurances returned as Draco continued to feed him, balancing the bowl on his lap.

"That's a good kitten, so so good, I'm proud of you. It's gonna be okay, you're safe. You're okay."

Sooner than expected, he had finished the bowl, and Draco was laying with him, letting him bury his face into his chest.

"Thank you..."

"Sh sh sh, just rest, baby kitten. Just go to sleep. I'll be right here when you get up. I won't leave you." The words continued, a hand tracing circles into his back, and he faded slowly into black, but it didn't hurt this time.


End file.
